


Trapped

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Promptfic, Suit Porn, Trapped, but in a good way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 08:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: Trapped can mean dark things in Inception. But it doesn't have to ...Written in response to a tumblr prompt.





	Trapped

Arthur, of course, loves to shop for clothes. And it’s not that Eames doesn’t, but the kinds of places he finds the pieces that amuse him most aren’t places Arthur would go.

Usually.

But Eames can’t resist, when they find themselves with a free afternoon in Edinburgh, taking Arthur to a tiny shop where he has found some treasures in the past. Not things he still has, he let them go when he moved to Africa, but things he thinks of fondly. An exquisite tweed jacket in particular.

Now it seems likely he won’t be returning to Mombasa, it’s time to acquire some clothes suited to cooler, damper climes. Arthur has mentioned San Francisco, and Eames can just imagine him, wreathed in sea fog, cocooned in wool, scowling as the damp makes his hair curl. 

The bell chimes as Eames pushes the door of the little shop open, letting the aroma of old clothes -- bay rum, shaving soap, mothballs and woodsmoke -- drift out to them. Arthur wrinkles his nose, but he doesn’t say anything. A silver-haired man seated behind the wide wooden counter looks up. “Good afternoon.”

Eames watches Arthur as his eyes move round the space, taking in the tweed jackets, the glass-fronted case displaying ties and cufflinks, the suits hanging in neat ranks, by colour: grey to charcoal to black to navy to blue.

Arthur steps over to the black suits and starts to flip through them, assessing each briefly, until he comes to the evening wear. He slows down then, and, turning to the man behind the counter -- “May I?” -- lifts a hanger down. 

He twirls it back and forth, judging from every angle. Eames can see it won’t fit Arthur -- too broad in the shoulder. He steps over from where he’s been standing near the door, watching Arthur. Comes to stand in front of him, his back to the window. 

Arthur holds the suit up, his eyes narrowed. “Mmmm,” he says. He nods, decisive, and hands the hanger to Eames. “Try it on.” No hint of a question.

Eames looks over to the owner. “This way, sir,” says the man, leading him to the curtained alcove at the rear of the shop. 

Arthur stays where he is, absorbed in the racks.

Eames fastens the top buttons of his shirt and drops his trousers; slips the suit trousers off the hanger and steps into them. 

They fit well, an old-fashioned cut. There’s a waistcoat as well. The top button strains slightly across his chest. He settles the jacket on his shoulders and it too is a good fit. He regards himself in the mirror. The suit looks good, if faintly incongruous with the moss green of his shirt. The shop is quiet, only the small sounds of hangers sliding along the rail, and the doorbell hasn’t rung. They’re still the only customers. 

Eames steps out from behind the curtain, and clears his throat, a little self-conscious. Arthur turns.

His eyes widen and he crosses the space. Comes up close to Eames and brushes his hand down the jacket’s silk lapel. “I was right,” he says.

“Oh yes?” 

Arthur’s fingers are resting lightly on the top button of the waistcoat. 

“Yes,” he says.

“Very nice, sir,” says the owner. “I have several more from the same man, if you’re interested?” With a glance at Arthur, rather than Eames.

Arthur’s tongue darts out, along his bottom lip, before he turns to the man. “I am,” he says.

It looks like they’ll be here for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt from 75toseventeen on tumblr was: "Looks like we'll be trapped here for a while." I adapted it slightly to suit my unending need for suitporn.  
> Sorry (not sorry!)


End file.
